I can feel the wind.
I have seen the clouds form and break. Seen the sky crack and crush thousands. Watched the earth shatter and split, spilling hundreds of lives right into the abyss. I have heard the war cries, heard the drums, the clanking of shields and the splintering of spears. Watched the dark beasts rise, and seen the dragons of blood and bone call us to Hades’s grip.
I have seen all these things. Watched death vomit its curse up, over whole fields, whole towns, whole cities.
I have seen many, many battles.
Fought in many long wars.
I can feel the wind rise, and die. It’s breath becomes just a whisper on my skin.
Just like the rest of us.
Just like me.
I have won this battle, but…
I don’t think I’ll win another.
I’m done for. Continue reading “Battle Born”
There was no rain.
The cliffside was dreary as always. Dark. Menacing. Threatening rain, like it always did. Like I wanted it to.
There was no rain.
No rain to wash the dirt away. To take the stains.
Today of all days…
Continue reading “Pray For Rain”
It’s so, so stupid.
I can hear the dog whistle.
It calls out to me, a long, shrilly whine. Breaks the barrier between real and fake. Breaks down every wall that’s ever been built. Breaks down every obstacle.
I’m no dog. And I sure as hell shouldn’t answer to a whistle.
What do I do when I hear it? When that stupid, piercing shriek hits my ears?
I take off running.
So, so stupid. Continue reading “When Called”
They rush up from the ground, soaring to new heights. They claw their way into the sky, marring the ground that they leave behind. Thick thorns protrude from the surface, thousands of teeth. Enough to make a shark jealous. The dark roots rise up, and up, and up.
I am surrounded by thorns.
I stand amongst them all. Stand in the center of this maze of pain. This dark, angry mess. I stand in the center, arms and legs and face still bleeding.
But it’s okay.
Because here, now, with these brambles, it’ll be okay.
I’ll be safe.
And no one can destroy that.
…right? Continue reading “Heart of Bramble”
There’s something satisfying about smashing things. About watching them break and crumble. About watching them shatter, or crack. It was just… satisfying. To see that something out there was a million times for fragile than you could ever be. To be able to break something without hurting someone. It was refreshing.
It was a nice way to let go of some anger.
That’s for damn sure.
I haphazardly tossed another plate up, into the air above me. High enough to give myself time.
Time to ready the bat.
And time to swing.
When the bat connected, there was a satisfying chink and clatter as the plate was decimated. Undone. Guts made of glass exploded outward, scattering over the dirt.
I took a steady breath, exhaling and grinning.
Then I picked up another plate. Continue reading “Break Through”
There’s a stillness that resides here. A sort of stagnant energy that leans in the wind. It doesn’t go anywhere, and it doesn’t have a beat. In fact, it makes no sound. Makes no move of its own. It simply is.
The stillness is a unique thing. A necessary thing. At least, in this place it is.
That’s why I’m here.
To protect the stillness.
To protect this finality.
Rest. Continue reading “Grim Talks”
There are thousands of them.
Thousands of things I name after you. Continue reading “Your Name”
Taking the bottle cap, I rest it between my middle finger and my thumb. A precarious balance, but it’s a motion I’m used to. Actually, it’s so familiar that it’s easy. This cap is from an off-brand soda that I love. Tiger Drink. It’s a bit heftier than a normal soda cap, as it’s made from metal, rather than plastic, but the weight is familiar. I know it’ll make this a lot easier than a normal soda cap. Though the metal requires more strength in my flick, the weight makes it fly truer.
Building up the pressure, I flick the bottle cap.
Ricocheting off the wall, it continues its flight. Not with as much momentum, but that’s alright. I don’t want to hurt my target.
I just need his attention.
My efforts aren’t fruitless.
Which isn’t something new, but still.
After it bounces off the wall, the bottle cap hits Ty in the head, just as predicted.
There’s a moment.
It’s something like silence. Something like holding your breath. Something like hoping you haven’t been caught—or, maybe, hoping you have. The moment bleeds impatience, and it screams with anxiety.
Look around Ty, dammit, I think.
In the next moment, I reap the rewards of my aim. Continue reading “Restless”
Sleep is an enemy. An enemy of the weak.
I’ll admit that.
But, only to myself.
Other people don’t see it. They don’t know how weak I am. How I reject sleep. They think I’m hardworking, that I’m invincible. Unstoppable. Camera crews kill each other for shots of me, and interviewers plague my phone begging for just a second of my time.
They think I’m strong.
But I can’t sleep.
Not because I don’t want to–because I do. Like hell, I do. I’d give my soul for sound nap, and I’d give three lifetimes over for the chance of a full night of rest. But, deals with the devil weren’t my specialty.
So I don’t sleep.
I don’t sleep because I always dream.
I always dream. Continue reading “Weaks and Weeks Without Sleep”